One Day At A Time, When Nothing's For Sure
by Vanilla Princess Baby
Summary: "I almost died and you couldn't even pick up your phone," set directly after 5x17.


He knew what he was doing was for the right reasons. He knew that even if someone held a gun to his head and threatened to shoot, he wouldn't relent.

Toby's goal for so long was based around the sole idea of protecting Spencer. She was his world, his light, his firecracker. She was all he had and yet, everything he wanted. And he'd failed time and time again, trying to protect her. He couldn't give up now. He couldn't give up and quit. Not when he was so close to learning the truth. Not when there was still so much at stake.

As much as he hated to admit it, he did place Spencer's physical well-being over her mental. It was a close call but, if the choice was between hurting her emotionally, something that literally shattered his heart to do, and allowing her to be hurt physically-or worse-there was no choice. He needed her to be safe.

His past actions were great examples of this mentality.

He had broken her heart, stranded her bawling her eyes out on multiple occasions and even landed her inside a mental institution. His plans had backfired in the worst ways, scenarios turning more horrific than he ever could have imagined.

It's amazing the amount of damage that can be done with nothing but good intentions.

That was basically the tagline of his life for the past few months. Every time he turned around, Spencer was endangered or hurt or crying or missing. He couldn't blink without something going wrong in her life and he knew, just by one look at her, it was beginning to break down her ever strong defenses. His little firecracker was losing her spark.

It was after his childhood house blew up, after he watched the house where his mother had raised him, where he'd spent his formative years, where his life changed forever, blow apart, chunk by chunk in a huge eruption, that he started waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, frantically worrying that today would be the day where he held Spencer for the last time, that when he kissed her goodbye, they'd never meet again. His hysteria had led him to retching his dinner more than once before he finally decided to take action and join the force that was supposedly dedicated to protecting those who needed it.

But one sentence from Spencer damn near destroyed his resolve altogether.

 _"I really need to see you."_

Her voice was cracking, she was on edge and he knew he was hurting her. He knew that to her, this felt like a cruel punishment she didn't deserve. She'd never understand this. It was times like this that their differences became so prominent.

Toby saw the big picture. He saw what his actions now could do to the future. He saw a little bearable pain today, a little heartbreak tomorrow, would ultimately pay off when all was said and done.

Spencer saw only what was right in front of her. When she felt a jab of pain, she did what she had to do to make it go away. If him being a cop was coming between them and interfering in their relationship, the one steady force and safe haven in both their lives, it _needed_ to end now.

It was this subtle difference in views that created a boatload of problems for the young lovers. He was willing to sacrifice anything for her wellbeing. He had no limits when it came to protecting her.

Spencer had no limits when it came to protecting him either. It was protecting herself that she struggled with.

Spencer's words once again rang in his head. _"I don't really care what time you get off, I really need to see you."_

He'd brushed her off, the only thing he could think to do. He'd done what he thought he had to do in order to keep her out of trouble with Tanner but, only after the fact, did he begin to worry about what he was excluding himself from.

Why was her voice cracking? Why did she sound so distraught? Was she alright? Would she even tell him if she wasn't? Surely, she would have said first thing if she'd been harmed, right?

Before he could even finish the question, he was shaking his head. No, that was definitely not Spencer. She was the martyr, the leader that took all the hits in stride.

At what point would it become too much again and if he wasn't there, would anyone even know that she'd reached her breaking point?

He just needed to check on her really quick, he told himself as he climbed off the futon and grabbed his keys off the counter.

Even if she slammed the door in his face, he just needed to make sure she was physically alright.

* * *

Toby decided on the way over that it was better he come unannounced. Spencer was someone who allowed her anger to boil with time and surely since disconnecting from their phone call, her rage had grown.

But, now standing in front of her door, he began to regret his decision. Should he knock or call or-

As he debated his best option, something moved from inside, something that was barely visible through the window. Squinting, Toby finally made out a large lump of brown curls splayed across one end of the burlap sack couch that sat directly in front of the fire place.

Realization struck him instantly and he forgot all about knocking, turning the knob automatically, and much to his dismay, it was unlocked.

"Spence," His voice rasped out as he took large strides towards her, taking in her unconscious state. "Spencer," He called as he knelt down in front of her, his back to the flames. "Spence, please look at me," He reached his hand up to touch her soft, blemish-less, cheek. His hand almost instantly pulled back when it came in contact with her flushed skin. "You're so warm," He murmured fretful, moving his hand to her forehead. "You're burning up!" He exclaimed ghastly.

"No shit Sherlock," Spencer snapped, attempting to sit up briskly but instead her movements were awkward and frail.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick, baby?" He asked, his voice soft and lithe, even though Spencer looked like she wanted to chuck him across the room. If he noticed the harsh glare she was throwing him, he feigned oblivion.

His words though, seemed to light an even bigger fire inside Spencer. "I did call you! I called you all night!" She said roughly, the same hoarse voice he heard on the phone hours prior. Toby kicked himself mentally, for not even considering the possibility of it stemming from illness instead of emotions. "You refused to answer for hours and when finally you did, you completely blew me off-"

"You didn't tell me you were sick," He cut her off, unable to hear her agonized tone, knowing he was the one putting her through this pain. He steadily reminded himself that this ache was temporary. It was for the greater good and, in the end, it would seem insignificant.

Still it rattled him to the core that if he hadn't shown up here when he had, if he hadn't had the impulse, Spencer would have likely sat in the living room all night, not resting properly and probably attended school tomorrow, effectively making herself even more frail and unhealthy.

Toby struggled with knowing what was worth slipping down the cracks for this job. He could argue with her all day and, when or if it benefited her, he'd push her away. But leaving her alone while she was ill was not something he was ever prepared to do.

"You remember when you walked into the station this morning?" He asked, making an effort to keep his voice even and gentle. "I asked, before anything else, if you were okay. Because your wellbeing negates _everything_ to me, Spencer," He stressed. "If you had told me you were running a fever on the phone, I would have come over, no questions asked."

Spencer looked at him for a long, hard second before her expression melted a little and she let an unusual amount of vulnerability leak into her features. "I wasn't really sick when we talked," She admitted warily, her voice lower and raspier than it had been a few hours ago. "I don't know," She shrugged. "Maybe I was but I thought it was stress and anger until I started feeling like I was going to faint."

Toby brought his hand back up to her forehead. "You need to get some rest, Spence," He murmured, his voice tender. "Let's just move you to your bed, alright?"

"No," Spencer shook her head, her voice a tiny squeak in comparison to her usual loud alto. "I'm too tired to climb the stairs."

Toby eyed her, finding only a little humor in her comment. "I wasn't intending for you to walk, actually."

"You really want to cart my ass up those stairs and down that long hallway?"

Rolling his eyes, he reached down and scooped her off the ottoman and up into his arms. "I carried heavier loads as a carpenter."

Spencer didn't say anything as she borrowed herself into his chest but, Toby swore he could literally feel her defenses melting away.

* * *

He approached her bedroom delicately, taking extra caution not to jumble the girl in his arms as he laid her down on the bed spread.

"Mmmm," She groaned, rubbing her eyes gracelessly. "Turn the lights out. Now," She demanded in an irritated tone.

"Okay," He said amicably and flipped the switch. "Do you want to put on the anchor t-shirt?" He asked in the same tone, honey in contrast to the vinegar in her tone.

Spencer nodded slowly, her eyes still covered by her hands, even as he made his way over to her place against the pillows.

"Why am I so sticky?" She complained vigorously.

"I think its part of having a fever," Toby said pacifyingly, his voice warm and hushed, like a lullaby.

"Yeah, I know," Spencer replied but her voice was no longer as intense or angry. It was just worn out now, like the scratchy sound when the scotch tape was at the end of the roll. Just worn and tired.

Toby's chest hurt, the way it did every time he saw her in any pain or struggle. She was always so energetic and intense; it was hard to believe sometimes that she ever slowed down.

Spencer lethargically sat up and began to untuck her stripped shirt from her high waisted jeans. Taking his cue from her, he carefully reached down to unbutton her jeans and slip them down her long, slender legs, taking her socks with them. As he was folding the clothing and placing them against the rocking chair, he watched as she struggled to remove the shirt from her clammy figure.

"I got it," He asserted gently, swiftly peeling the shirt from her and removing her bra too.

"Thank you," Spencer whispered weakly, her hands reaching around instinctively for the blue shirt that she'd once stole from him.

He retrieved the shirt from the edge of the bed's comforter and carefully pulled it over her head, tugging it until the hem reached the top of her thighs.

"There you go," He said, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind her ears. "Better?"

She nodded, and for the first time in what felt like eons, a smile spread across her face. "Thank you."

"Thank me by resting," He pulled the covers back and waited for her to climb in to pull them over her. "You need to rest to recover."

"Do they teach medical courses in the Harrisburg Police Academy?" She asked wryly.

"No, but I'm in love with a textbook."

Her light, glowing giggle was enough to lift the mood inside the bedroom drastically. "Yeah, you are," She grinned.

Shaking his head, partially in awe of her, partially at her ability to change emotions so quickly, he tried to come up with an adequate segue. Deciding there really was none, he sighed and spit out what was on his mind. "Spence, you really need to tell me when something like this happens-"

Spencer voice raised another octave, her expression sheepish, like a guilty dog when asked if they peed on the floor. "When what happens?" She asked, her voice brewing something beneath the surface.

Toby gave her a once over before reaching out to push her hair off her face and nudged her to lie back against the pillows. "When you're sick-or hurt," He amended, "I need to know. No damn job can trump anything when you physically _need_ me."

Spencer, unsurprisingly, scoffed at his words. "That's bullshit!" She exclaimed, throwing herself upwards into a sitting position, her sore, raspy voice croaking. "That's fucking bullshit and you know it! You're never here!" She shouted at him. "I need you every fucking day and _you're never here_!"

Toby felt his voice falter in defeat, having no excuse to give. He could tell her until he was blue in the face that he loved her, his heart was always with her and he'd do anything- _anything_ -to protect her, keep her safe, help her put her life back together, end her nightmare once and for all but her words were true. He wasn't always physically there when she needed him. But that didn't mean he wasn't always working on her side.

It didn't matter though, as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes. His excuses were absolutely useless when he saw the liquid salt racing down her face like a waterfall had erupted. Her sobs soon followed and, before long, he felt his own tears threatening to spill. "Spencer, sweetheart-"

"Don't 'sweetheart' me!" She meant to snap but he couldn't even focus on her inflicted anger towards him when he could see the tears in her eyes and knew how badly she was hurting. "Do not patronize me, placate me or steamroll me! I'd prefer silence to _that_."

"I can't tell you what was in the barrel-'' He pleaded, his eyes begging her to understand.

"Then don't! You know what, Toby, I couldn't care less. Maybe I needed to know a few hours ago. Or I thought I did. But I needed you to be here more. I-I-I," She stuttered, her fever mixed with her tears hindering her. "I don't know how much more I can take," She whispered, bowing her head, almost ashamed of what she just admitted.

Toby knew she wasn't just referring to him and their relationship, but to everything in her life, everything -A had taken from her. But, maybe to his surprise, her words did nothing to demotivate him from being a cop. It reinforced it, actually. She needed her life back, she was barely hanging on. How could he quit when her nightmare was still happening? How could he sit here, watch her fall apart before his very eyes and then call it quits?

"Where were you tonight?" She suddenly asked, her voice still carrying the slight disdain that always let him know she was ready to rip him a new one at the drop of a hat. "Where were you when I was calling you for hours? Because you weren't at work-"

"I called you from the steps of the P.D." He answered before gnawing on his lip slightly. "I was talking to Tanner for a while after we got back from the storage unit and then. . . . I was thinking. Trying to clear my head."

Spencer smiled slightly but it was an angry and resentful sneer. One he saw too often nowadays. "Is your head all clear?" She mocked.

"Why are you so angry?" He snapped suddenly. "I know my change of careers has taken a toll on us, but I did it for you! I love you! _You_ are my motivating factor here! Do you think I want to hurt you?"

"Do you?"

"That's a really stupid question, Spencer and you know it!"

At his words, her eyes fell onto her comforter. Squeezing his eyes shut, he kicked himself, hard, for saying it so harshly. But it seemed like he had no way to win here. "Spence-" He started, only to get cut off, once again.

"Wanna know how I got sick?" Spencer sniffled slightly before meeting his eyes and running her hand under her nose. "Me and Aria and Em tried to follow Hanna-tried to stop her, actually-from going to that stupid storage space. Except we went to the wrong one and," She trailed off before shrugging, "Me and Aria got locked in a freezer," She finally added. "We almost froze to death. Emily got us out at the last minute-"

"You got locked in a _freezer_?" Toby barely heard his own voice, his mouth seemingly disconnected from his brain. "You-you-"

She cut off his shocked rambles without hesitation. "Yeah, me and Aria did," She started to shake her head. "I really thought for a minute that. . . that I'd never see you again. That you would hear secondhand somehow that I'd died of hypothermia or maybe you'd get a call down there and you'd have to I.D my body and I kept thinking of your reaction," She didn't even realize she had begun to hyperventilate until Toby encircled her with his arms and brought her head into the crook of his neck.

"Don't ever imagine that," He whispered soothingly. "You're here, I'm here and I'm never going to let anything happen to you," He kissed the top of her head, letting his lips linger there for seconds longer than was probably natural. "I love you, _I love you_ and if something happened to you, I don't even know how-what," He shook his head, before clearing his throat, blinking a few times to clear his vision and kissing her hairline once more. "I'd be lost if anything ever happened to you. I can't even imagine how I'd cope."

Spencer shook her head, pulling back slightly but keeping herself in his arms, unwilling to be untangled from his limbs. "I don't want to be mad at you, I just, I have all this anger inside of me and I can't just let it go. I can't just let go of the fact that, tonight, _I almost died and you couldn't even pick up the phone_."

Her words broke a dam inside of him and before either one of them knew it, he was crying. Which only served to make her tears come down faster and harder too.

"No," He whispered brokenly, when he saw her damp, pained face. "No, no, no."

Spencer's expression mirrored his as they took in each other's pink, tear filled faces. "I'm sorry," She whispered finally, her voice crushed and defeated.

Toby tightened his arms around her, bringing his forehead down to rest against her feverish one. "Don't be sorry, baby," He whispered, planting a kiss on her nose. "Don't say you're sorry. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm tearing you apart," She whimpered, a sob growing in the back of her throat.

"No!" He exclaimed softly but firmly. "You are _not_ tearing me apart. This situation is just. . . really, really, hard. On both us," He stressed. "And I don't know how to fix it or make it better. But I won't stop trying. I can't," He kissed her hot forehead and then her cheek and then her forehead again. "I just want you to be alright. I don't want you to feel like this. _I_ don't know want to feel like this."

"I don't want to hurt each other anymore," She whispered. "I just don't want to feel like this either. And I don't know what to do."

"Neither of us do, Spence, but," He pulled back slightly to tip her chin up in his direction, "look at me, babe. I will always do anything I can to take care of you and protect you. I love you. So much. And no knife being burned and no dead body in a barrel will ever change that. Do you hear me?"

Spencer saw the deep sincerity in his eyes. She only hoped he saw in hers how much she still needed him to be her safe place to land. How, without him, she did crazy, stupid things and made irrational decisions. Instead of saying this out loud though, she only nodded and whispered, "I hear you."

He cupped her face at the same time she brought her hands up to his. Their lips met a second later and disconnected after a peck, both wrapping their arms around each other immediately following and rocking back and forth.

"Lay back," He said after they slowly let go of each other. "You need to rest," He kissed the side of her face before pushing her back against the pillows.

Spencer shook her head. "Please, stay?" She begged-something she almost never did. "Please, don't leave me alone tonight. Not when-" He didn't even need her to finish- which she didn't. He heard the words she didn't say. Not when she was feeling so vulnerable, not when she barely made it out of today alive, not when she had just opened up a part of herself she usually left closed. She once confided in him that she felt scared to open up and tell people how she felt because once she did, she always was emotional afterwards and her parents would tell her she was irrational or immature and needed to knock it off.

The fact that this brought her so much fear, the idea of being left alone, was enough to make him nod without thinking twice and tell her to scoot over so he could climb in next to her.

Once his pants and shirt were discarded and placed neatly in a pile on her floor, he slid in next to her warm, clammy figure and brought her into his arms. His hand began to run gently through her hair, in a calm, soothing pattern. "Go to sleep, baby. I'll be here. Right here." He murmured into her brown curls.

"What if I can't fall asleep?" She asked, tiredly, looking up at him in genuine curiosity. Her expression was so worn down and exhausted, he had a hard time believing she wouldn't be out like a light.

Still, he decided to humor her and whispered for her to turn over onto her stomach.

Once she was facing away, he carefully lifted her shirt-that was once his and had since become a mark for their relationship. He pulled the shirt over her head, but left her arms through the holes, so the shirt lay against the pillows above their heads. After edging down her underwear, Toby began using his calloused fingertips to caress and stroke her back, switching to scratching lightly with his short, trimmed nails every once in a while.

He continued to run his fingers in a repeated soothing motion down her warm, warm back until he felt her breathing even out and knew for sure she was asleep. Careful not to wake her, he very gently turned her body into his arms and cuddled her close against his bare chest, skin against skin. "I'll be here until you're fever is gone," He whispered, kissing her forehead. "And then, I'll be here every day after."


End file.
